Hippocratic
by Sailor Silver Moon
Summary: He was a brilliant ER doctor. She was the klutzy repeat visitor. He's pretty sure this isn't what medical school meant by furthering the doctor-patient relationship. She's pretty sure she can't live without his particular brand of bedside manner. BxE AU
1. Autonomy I

Chapter 1: Autonomy I

BPOV

"Welcome back, Miss Swan." Gianna's voice was carried to me by the wave of warmth that met me at the doors. I felt the blush creeping up my cheeks as some of the other occupants of the room turned their heads to see what the fuss was about.

"Thanks for that," I muttered darkly as I made my way to the reception desk, cradling my throbbing left wrist.

Her eyes sparkled back at me in return, unrepentant, as she continued to pull up my (rather hefty) medical file on the screen in front of her. "I presume that this isn't just a social call?" She glanced down at my wrist, already red and swollen.

"Is it ever?" I retorted, trying to distract myself from the throbbing pain but finding myself more weary than I expected. A small part of me knew that trying to hurry my visit wouldn't save me from the event that I was dreading, but I still felt compelled to try. "I fell. Can we make this a quickie – I'm pretty sure it's not even broken."

"Unless you managed to complete a medical degree in the time since your last visit, we're going to have to let the doctor be the judge of that," Gianna smiled wryly up at me for a moment before taking pity. "Have a seat for just a moment and I'll see if I can't get someone to take you to your usual room."

I huffed for a moment before throwing myself down into the nearest chair, wincing as my probably-just-sprained wrist protested the rough treatment. If I had my way, I would just ice the damn joint with that pack of frozen peas in my apartment and avoid this whole mess. Unfortunately, my latest episode of terminal clumsiness had been witnessed by my best friend's boyfriend, who felt duty bound to shuffle me to the nearest emergency room. And thus, I was – once again – in the waiting room of Northwestern Memorial Hospital, glaring at the LCD blaring the news from the corner. I scowled at the reporter as she explained that the Windy City was in for some more icy rain over the next week and debated whether Jasper would know if I made a run for it before he could park the car.

"Isabella Swan?" It was less of a question and more of a barked reprimand.

I stifled a groan. Of _course_, my luck would have it that Rosalie would be on shift today. As if things could get worse. I stood up, composing my face into my best pity-me expression, knowing full well the futility of the endeavor. "Present." I joked weakly as her eyes flashed at me.

She pressed her lips tightly together and whirled about, stalking towards the treatment rooms without a glance backward. I knew better than to push my luck – escape was impossible now that I was in Rose's clutches – so I followed meekly to lucky Exam Room 4. I sat down in one of the two chairs along the side of the wall, purposefully ignoring the paper-draped patient bed in the center of the room. If I was going to suffer, then so was everyone else!

"What did you do this time?" Rose bit out as she reached out to take my vital signs. Although her demeanor was gruff, I noticed that she was very careful not to disturb my left arm.

"I fell." I sighed. "Nothing new."

"Were you drunk?" She spat at me, annoyed that I was dragging the triage process out.

"Yeah – on life." I snapped back. "I'll have you know that it's two in the afternoon, Rosalie Hale."

She glared.

"Alright, I slipped on a patch of black ice. I tried to catch myself, but ended up landing awkwardly on my left arm. Jasper saw me fall and dragged me here instead of just letting me ice it back at my own place."

"Jesus, Bella, you act like you don't have health insurance or something," Rosalie rolled her eyes at my petulance. Ever since my step-father signed onto play minor league baseball, he felt it was his duty to add me onto his insurance plan. Apparently, athletes (even minor league ones) have a very thorough coverage. I ended up spending so much time in the ER back at Forks that there was talk of naming it after me.

As if returning to the Bella Swan Ward of Forks Hospital would have made the experience any better.

"I'm done with you here, Bella. The doctor will be in shortly, so don't wander off." She looked me right in the eye and I pretended to have no idea what she was talking about. "I'll be done with my shift here around six tonight so I'll pick up some pizza on my way home."

"Deep Dish?" I perked up slightly at the thought of indulging in some cheese-filled therapy.

Rosalie eyed me for a moment before conceding, "Fine, but I'm ordering it with sausage."

"Yeah, not that it's the type of sausage you're hankering for…" I muttered, deciding not to push my luck. She shot me a piercing look which made me question if I had spoken softly enough, but before she could get any words out, there was a soft rap on the door.

Oh shit. I felt all the blood drain from my face for a moment before it returned with a vengeance, staining me red from forehead to neck. Maybe I would get off lucky and it wouldn't be who I thought it was?

The door opened noiselessly and the man who inhabited both my nightmares and fantasies walked in.

Frick on a stick.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Rosalie. I thought you were already finished." He paused in the doorway.

"Not at all, Dr. Cullen. I was just on my way out." Rose, the traitor that she was, shot me a little smile and waltzed out of the exam room. I bit back a groan. She was going to be unbearable tonight.

Sometimes, I ask myself why I subject myself to Rose as a roommate. I like to think that putting up with her bitchiness helps my karma. But then, days like today roll around and I wonder if karma isn't just having a big ol' laugh at my expense.

A click startled me out of my thoughts and I accidentally ended up looking into his bright green eyes and my breath hitched in my lungs. Dr. Edward Cullen is by far and away the most attractive man I have ever seen. And, incidentally, thanks to his career choice, he is also the man most privy to my most embarrassing episodes of Epic Fail. I'm not sure if I want to jump his bones or toss him into Lake Michigan with some cement shoes. Rosalie is convinced that it's the former, but I can make a pretty convincing argument that hatred is easily mistaken for lust.

"What seems to be the problem today, Miss Swan?" His voice was deep and smooth. It carried just the right amount of empathy and authority. I wonder if that's natural or something he just picked up in medical school.

"Uhm. My left wrist." I stumbled over my words, feeling like a gangly high schooler all over again. "I think it's sprained."

I trailed off lamely. Of course, his question is rhetorical. Rose has already gotten the relevant "history of presenting illness" – hah, I can totes speak medical jargon too – into the file that he's currently skimming.

"Okay. We'll see what we can do for that right away. Is there anything else bothering you today?" He looked up from the computer displaying my medical records.

"Nope," With his eyes fixed on me, I barely managed to squeak out the one syllable. Considering my reaction to him, I can understand how Rose assumes I'm lusting after the good doctor. But that's just because she only knows Dr. Jekyll whereas I have also met Mr. Hyde.

Edward Cullen and I have always had a rocky relationship – if relationship is really the term to use when all interactions between us have a big HIPAA stamp on them. The first time I met him, he was a resident at Harborview Medical Center, over on the UW campus in Seattle. He was originally from Forks – the sad, little prison of a town I went to high school in – and happened to be home on leave. I was halfway through college and was visiting Charlie for two weeks that December. Mike Newton – the idiot – had decided that it would be great fun to start a snowball fight in the middle of the grocery store parking lot. In my haste to avoid freezing, wet balls (high up on my list of "things Bella Swan does NOT like") I ended up wiping out and landing hard on the back of my head.

I admit to having been a little bit woozy by the time I was shuffled into the ambulance and taken to Forks Hospital but I maintain to this day that Edward Cullen hated me on sight. Maybe I really did stab him with a scalpel while sedated (Mike's theory, not mine) or perhaps I ran over his cat in a previous life, but there was no way I imagined the absolute loathing he had on his face that afternoon. The minute I was deemed stable, he darted out of that room at an inhuman speed. For the rest of my stay, Dr. _Carlisle_ Cullen was the only one entering my room. The jerk had obviously pawned me off onto his doctor dad.

Yet, the second time I ran into him – quite literally, as I was attempting to hobble my way out of the outpatient clinic in Seattle – he seemed to be the very soul of kindness. Perhaps he forgot who I was, because he even introduced himself to me again as he helped me back to the clinic to assess the damages of my spill.

The man changed moods so often that I'm surprised I don't have whiplash. I wonder if any decent attorney would let me sue him for emotional damages wrought. Probably not.

Luckily, today appeared to be a Dr. Jekyll day as Dr. Cullen washed his hands carefully before starting his physical exam. I braced myself for his touch, since his cold hands always made my stomach do a little bit of a somersault.

"Ow!" The bastard just shocked me, causing me to jump and jar my wrist.

"Oh – I'm sorry," his velvety tone was unruffled and I saw small wrinkles beginning to form between his furrowed eyebrows. "I guess there's a lot of static in the air." His mouth curled up in a lopsided but apologetic smile even as his eyes darkened.

Uh oh. I knew that look. I let my dark hair swing forward as he continued to examine my left arm, trying to block his eyes from view. Without seeing his fingers, I could barely tell where his fingers were touching me. They ghosted over my wrist, probing gently enough that I didn't hiss in pain. And then, abruptly, he was across the room.

"I'm going to order an X-ray of the wrist, just in case you did manage to fracture it. Once I take a look at the result, we can decide if you need to have a cast placed, or if a brace will be sufficient. Please wait just a moment while I see what the schedule down in radiology is like." His voice was unchanged, but I could tell that something was bothering him by the too-still way that he held himself.

And then, before I could protest, he had slipped out of the room and I was alone. "What happened to the patient being part of the treatment process?" I grumbled to myself, disliking my lost autonomy.

"Bella!" A voice boomed into the room as my door swung open again and I couldn't help but smile.

Emmett Cullen was the exact opposite of his younger brother. Well, ok, not exact opposite. Both of them were doctors, just like Daddy Cullen himself. But that's where the similarity ended. Emmett was big and brawny where Edward was slender and toned. He had a mop of cropped brown curls atop his head, whereas Edward's reddish brown hair was constantly in artful disarray. And best of all, he was genuinely happy to see me, whereas Edward appeared to have just swallowed a lemon taped to a brick almost every time he saw me.

"Emmett! What brings you down to my personal exam room?" I smiled back warmly at him, only half joking about it being my personal room. I hated the number four. It was always the number I ended up wearing in gym class in high school. Gym was my own personal form of hell, so anything that reminded me of it was automatically bad. Yet, somehow, I always ended up in exam room number four. Karma, you bitch.

"I'm here to take you down to the dungeon, of course." I guessed that he was referring to radiology, which was located in the basement.

"What? Why?" I frowned.

"Because your wrist might be broken," he replied, matter of fact.

"Well, yes, I understand that part." My frown turned into a scowl. "But since when did they start using the neurosurgery residents as escorts for the not-quite-invalid?"

It was Emmett's turn to look sheepish and my suspicions went up a notch when he failed to reply beyond a shrug.

"I don't suppose it has anything to do with a certain blonde bombshell of a nurse, does it?" I asked, enjoying watching him squirm. I swear, Emmett has had a crush on Rose from the moment he laid eyes on her. Why they insisted on playing this ridiculous game of pretending neither of them knew of the existence of the other is beyond me. Although Emmett looked like the offensive lineman for the Chicago Bears, he was actually quite intelligent and caring. He ended up matching into pediatric neurosurgery and was always a big hit with the kids. As much as Rose pretends to have her head in the clouds, I know that none of these facts have escaped her notice.

I hopped up to my feet, wincing slightly at the motion. There's a better chance of "accidentally" running into Rose outside of my little exam room, so I let him lead me into the corridor. Sure enough, Rose turns her head in our direction within seconds. Emmett smiles at her hesitantly, and Rose whips her head back down to whatever paperwork she has lying on the nursing desk. Somehow, this bizarre interaction seems to be enough for Emmett, whose smile widens into a grin as he leads me down to the dungeon.

Even more bizarrely, I seemed to have been fast-tracked through the X-ray process. I'm fairly certain this has a very lot to do with the fact that my other roommate is Alice Cullen, sister to two Cullen doctors and daughter to the third.

"I seem to finally be getting the VIP treatment I deserve, eh, Em?" I joked, noticing how quickly the technician finished up with me. "Maybe there are some perks to being a frequent flyer after all?"

Maybe it's just me, but it seems like he squirms a little bit more even as he lets out another boom of a laugh. "I don't think they give out a bulk discount on health care, Bella."

"I'll take your word on it. What have you been up to lately? You haven't visited Alice in a while." I was not above trying to nudge my two friends together.

"Yeah, well, neurosurgery residency takes up quite a bit of my time." He smiled wryly, "Who woulda thunk it, right?"

"Well, if you're free, I know Rose is picking up some deep dish tonight to mark the fact that I almost went a whole two weeks before ending up in the ER, so if you've got some time free…" I waggled my eyebrows at him suggestively at him, and was rewarded with another laugh and a noncommittal response before I was deposited back in my exam room.

Emmett scanned the nursing station one last time, but Rosalie was nowhere to be found. Nor was my erstwhile doctor. I wondered fleetingly what had happened to him before Emmett's pager went off.

Trying to smother my laughter as the melody of 'twinkle twinkle little star' cut off, I was surprised when Emmett plopped himself down in front of the computer. I had assumed that the page meant that somewhere, a brain was awaiting his slicing skills, but he seemed very nonchalant about the matter. I am so glad I never wanted to be a doctor. Never mind the fact that I faint at the smell of blood.

"Well, lil sis, it seems like you've got nothing but a sprain here. Doc's notes say that you should ice it twice a day and wear a brace for the next week, just in case." He slipped into his old nickname for me as he read off the screen. He paused to look over at the examination bed in the middle of the room, where a black wrist brace was patiently sitting in its wrapping before looking up at me, slightly sheepish once more.

I was confused at Emmett's sudden decision to play at being an ER doc before the facts all snapped into place.

The rat bastard had just pawned me off onto his brother.


	2. Justice I

**AN: To answer some of the questions that have cropped up – this story is all humans. I'm going to try to keep the characters as close to the originals as I can and will be shameless in tossing in little easter eggs of references back to the books in the process. Sorry that I couldn't fit that into the story description, but I ran out of characters. **

Chapter 2: Justice I

BPOV

I huffed as I stared at the jar of spaghetti sauce, trying to figure out the best plan of action. With my left wrist still in its brace, I couldn't seem to get a strong enough grip on the bottle to wrench the lid open.

Four days.

It had been four days of absolute misery wearing this damn brace. I would have chucked the damn thing into the Lake on the way home if it hadn't been for Alice, who would have ratted me out to her brothers in seconds. I have never been able to figure out exactly _how_ Mary Alice Cullen gets her information, but her network of spies would probably make the CIA green with jealousy. If she put her powers to use for "good," I'm sure she could resolve the Middle East crisis. But no, Alice is perfectly content in using her psychic power purely to torment me.

Yes, that's right: her _psychic_ powers. The first day I met Alice, she walked right up to me in the cafeteria, introduced herself and told me that we would be good friends. I had frozen in place, a carrot stick halfway to my mouth. By the time I managed to compose myself enough to bring the vegetable the rest of the way to my lips, she had steered me to sit with her brother Emmett, had unceremoniously transformed my sloppy ponytail to a neat bun and had wormed her superstitious, tarot-card-reading little self into my heart.

"I was meant for you," she still declared to this day. Yeah – perhaps as punishment.

Not that being friends with Alice didn't have its perks. I had met Emmett that same day, and he had turned out to be the big brother figure that I thought only existed in books. And in time, I had fallen in love with her parents, Carlisle and Esme Cullen. Their whole family is everything I had wished mine would have been. Well, except for Alice's _other_ brother. Edward. The reason I was in this stupid brace.

I growled and tucked a stray lock of hair back behind my ear, re-focusing on the task at hand. Of course, the one time I needed a hand from Alice, she was off with Jasper somewhere. And Rose wasn't picking up her cell. I let my eyes scan the apartment for anything that could be useful, but came up empty.

Maybe I could tap the side of the bottle against the kitchen ledge to loosen it up? With any luck, I would be able to break the seal and get on with making myself some dinner.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

I did my best to open the lid. No luck. Maybe I could use a knife to try to pry the seal apart? It would probably have been a coin toss as to whether that endeavor would end in me eating dinner or me returning to the ER with only one functional eye. I huffed once again and wished that I knew someone in our building well enough to knock on their door and ask them to open this bottle for me.

Well, it looked like this brace was about to come off. My wrist was back to normal size anyway, what was the harm in taking off this restrictive thing a few days early? My other hand hovered near the Velcro fastening and a thrill of fear ran through me. What if Edward found out somehow? Would that send him off the deep end for real?

"Fuck Edward," I muttered derisively, yanking on the Velcro and tearing the brace off. He wasn't the boss of me and anyway, it wasn't likely he was going to find out.

"What was that you planned to do with my brother?"

"Holy shit, Alice!" I whirled, barely managing to keep a firm grasp on the damned pasta sauce that started my troubles.

"Jasper," she turned back toward the doorway, "Would you mind giving Bella a hand with that jar? She would have injured herself trying to open it if we hadn't come back just now."

I quirked an eyebrow, but silently handed the jar over to Jasper. That was just how Alice was. Some days, she followed the stars and deduced her own horoscopes. Other days, she preferred to read her tarot cards to see what misfortunes lay ahead. It would have been the butt of many jokes if her predictions weren't somehow always correct. She could probably make a fortune in stocks, if her interest lay in that field. Instead, she was starting her own line of clothing – apparently, she had "seen" that this was what she was meant to do. I keep my mouth shut, but the minute she tells me she "saw" how Apple's stock would do next week, I'm making a couple of quiet phone calls.

"Thanks, Jazz." I accepted the jar back with genuine appreciation. "Do either of you want to join me for dinner? Nothing too fancy – just some ravioli."

"No, thank you, Bella. I'm just here to open jars. I've got an evening class to get to," Jasper smiled as he excused himself, dropping a kiss atop Alice's head on his way out. I smiled as I noticed that he was carrying an umbrella even though the forecast this morning hadn't predicted rain.

"So, anyway, what was that you were planning to do with my brother?" Alice hopped up on one of the breakfast stools and watched me heat up the pasta sauce.

"I don't have any plans with Emmett," I hedged, knowing the futility of the endeavor. Seriously – the phrase 'a dog with a bone' is way too mild for Alice.

"Well, seeing as I've prevented you from having yet another visit with my brother _Edward_, I think you owe it to me to explain exactly what you have against him," she pouted.

"I don't have anything against him – he's the one who seems to have a problem with me." I didn't even bother to debate whether or not I would have injured myself if she hadn't shown up.

"Yes, it's clear that he has strong feelings for you."

"Then why are you still hung up on this point?" I slid a bowl of the three cheese ravioli toward her.

"I said he has strong feelings, Bella. I didn't say they were negative. Thank you – this is delicious."

I hummed noncommittally before attempting to speak around a mouth full of hot cheese as I dug into my own bowl, "Have you ever been in a room with us? Seriously? That man hates the sight of me."

"Well, that's true. But not in the way you think it is. Why don't you just give him a chance?"

"Is the tap water here laced with something? Why are you and Rosalie determined to blame me for his actions? I know he's supposed to be a prodigy and all that, but that doesn't mean that I'm automatically the one at fault."

"Edward," she paused, apparently searching for the right words. "Isn't always the best person at expressing himself. Give him a break?"

I stared at her as if she had grown a second head. That's it. I wasn't going to drinking the tap water anymore – clearly it was causing some compromised judgment calls. The only break I wanted to give Edward was the type that resulting in a month long plaster cast.

"Sure, Alice. I'll try," I lied half-heartedly, not wanting to argue with her further. The longer I drew this out, the more likely that I'd walk into some trap of hers.

"That's wonderful, Bella. Why don't you start tonight? Rosalie forgot her pager in the apartment and it's going to go off in about fifteen minutes. Why don't you go deliver it to her – her shift just started."

I eyed her suspiciously. She beamed back at me, the picture of innocence.

Fine, we'd play it her way. I stalked over towards Rosalie's bedroom and opened the door, looking around for the little black device.

"It's in her laundry hamper!" I heard Alice's voice float faintly over, and sure enough, that's where the pager is. I grabbed it and walked back into the living area, ready to question Alice on how exactly she knew that little fact, but the pixie had disappeared into her own room. The last time I ventured in there, I came out with a perm. Playing delivery girl beats playing Barbie: Bella Edition, so I slipped on my boots and jacket in resignation as I headed out the door.

It didn't take me very long to see the hospital building looming in front of me. Our apartment was right on the edge of the medical campus. When I had protested the location, both Alice and Rosalie had pointed out that at least this way, I would save on ambulance fees by being able to walk myself to the ER. I grit my teeth against the cold. I knew the truth was that the location was convenient for Rosalie, a nursing student, and that Alice was happy to be near Jasper, whose law school classes were on the same campus. Being in such a prime location meant our apartment was insanely expensive – most of the tenants in our building were doctors themselves. Yet, somehow, my rent came out to be lower than any of the other locations we had considered – I suspected that this was the result of Rich Guilt, seeing as both Rosalie and Alice came from well-to-do families.

The sliding doors to the ER were just ahead of me now, and I welcomed the gust of warm air that greeted me. I glanced around the waiting room and noticed that it was surprisingly empty for the early evening. I waved at Gianna, who looked puzzled to see me without any obvious injuries.

"For once, I'm making a social call," I cheekily greeted her.

"Oh? And to what do we owe this honor?" She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. I've never seen Gianna look anything other than stunning. Rosalie's theory is that Gianna doesn't like being _just_ a receptionist – she wanted more. Since she couldn't be a doctor herself, she would settle for a large diamond ring from one.

"Rosalie forgot something, so I'm just dropping it off to her. Can you buzz me into the nurse's station?" I smiled apologetically as the mere mention of Rosalie caused Gianna to purse her lips. I guess she didn't like competition?

"Just this once, I suppose. Go ahead."

"Thank you, Gianna!"

"Yeah, just don't forget this next time you're in here on a business call!" She made a face at me, and I laughed, knowing that she was a good sport about my normally foul mood in the hospital.

I walked around the reception desk, unbuttoning my coat and humming a tune off-key to myself as I made my way down the long hallway. Really, the hospital wasn't half bad when you weren't here as a patient. I don't know why I dreaded it so much. Now to find Rose…

"And just what are you doing back here so soon, Bella?" a velvety voice snapped from behind me, pausing for a moment before continuing in a tone like a whip crack, "And where is your wrist brace?"

Oh, right. This is why I hate the hospital. I was so busted. I turned around to see none other than my rat bastard of a doctor, giving me his best green-eyed glare.

"Uh, at home? My wrist is doing fine. I only took it off half an hour ago. To give my wrist some air, you know…" I trailed off, trying to gauge what response would most likely not get me killed.

I was surprised when he seemed to accept my answer at face value.

"It's not bothering you anymore?" he looked at me for a moment more before abruptly ceasing his glare with a sigh. "I should probably take a look at it anyway. Follow me please."

Perplexed, but not wanting to anger him again, I did as I was told. I frowned as I realized I was being lead right back to Exam Room 4, but bit back my protests in light of my earlier conversation with Alice. I could let him play doctor for a little bit – he owed me a consult anyway, for dumping me on his brother like that.

He indicated that I should sit on the examination table. I felt myself begin to frown, but started to climb up anyway. Predictably, my foot slipped on the single, low step up. More shocking was the soft hand that grasped my left hip, supporting me until I regained my balance. I turned my head and realized that Dr. Cullen was right next to me, looking right at me.

Was that worry in his eyes? I sat down heavily, a little taken aback by the intensity of the emotion.

Now I was just being silly. Of course he'd be worried about his patients. Empathy is probably one of those things that medical schools looked for. You couldn't exactly be a sociopath and a doctor.

"I'm just going to feel around a little bit to see how the swelling is doing," he looked up at my eyes again, looking for a response.

"Uh. Okay?" I was distracted by the concentration on his face as he lifted my left arm up while carefully supporting my hand. His hands were as cold as ever – a product of his workplace, no doubt – and I told myself that my goose bumps are just a reaction to the chill. His fingers danced along my wrist, lightly gliding here and there and pushing every now and again.

"Hmm." The little rumble seemed to have come from deep within his chest. Innocent enough, yet my stomach seemed to have dropped to the level of my ankles.

He flipped his grip so that my wrist lay in his left hand. He pushed down on my limp wrist gently, and then, as he pulled my wrist back up, interlaced his long fingers with mine. I was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that I was now intimately holding my incredibly attractive physician's hand and my heart started to beat so loudly that it may very well have taken up residence between to my ears.

"Is this unpleasant?" Dr. Cullen froze, having caught sight of what must be wide-eyed shock on my face. His eyes stared straight into mine.

My mind, very helpfully, went blank the minute I realized he was staring at me. Unpleasant? What was he talking about? His hands were softer than I could have guessed and his fingers were just resting against the back of my hand. Our hands were tense against one another, and his grip was firm. What could possibly be unpleasant about holding his hand? I could've sat here and done this all day.

"Does this hurt your wrist at all?" he spoke softly, as if afraid to startle me from my haze.

My wrist? Oh. Oh!

I felt a deep flush rush into my face. This was all part of his examination of my wrist. I was making goo-goo eyes at my doctor when all he wanted was to see if my stupid wrist was still bothering me. God, I was such a fool!

"No, I'm just fine!" The words tumbled out of my mouth as I ducked my head, attempting to hide my embarrassment while breaking eye contact. Please just let the earth open up and swallow me – it would be the merciful solution to my problems.

He gently disentangled his hand from mine and replaced my arm in my lap. There were a few moments of absolute silence in the room and then, I felt him place his hand gently on my shoulder. Reflexively, my eyes snapped back up at him and I could see some of my confusion reflected back on his face. His mouth was slightly open, as if he was about to speak. Neither of us moved for another few breaths, before a shrill tone shattered the moment.

He blinked and jerked his hand back from my shoulder as if aflame. My head swiveled to locate the noise, and it took me a few minutes to realize that it was coming from my coat pocket. Dr. Cullen – _Edward_ – appeared equally confused about the noise and was digging through the pockets of his white coat frantically.

I shoved my good hand into the pocket and retrieved the object in question, holding it in my upturned palm, unsure of what to do with it. He frowned for a second before picking the pager up and deftly silencing it with one click. His eyes narrowed and his mood seemed to be rapidly darkening.

"Uh. Rosalie forgot her pager. So I came to deliver it. To her. Here." Finally able to unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I begin to babble. Brilliant work, Swan. If I'm not careful, someone's going to send me to get another MRI to assess for brain damage.

"I'll take it to her. You should head home before it gets too dark." He scowled – either at the pager, what he's just said, or me. I wasn't quite sure. I was left with plenty of time to ponder his parting remark, however, as he turned and swept out of the room. I winced, hoping that I hadn't just gotten Rose into trouble.

Taking a deep breath, I jumped to my feet. I could still smell _Edward_'s cologne lingering in the room and couldn't help but wonder, as I stood in the exam room, exactly what just happened between us and if every doctor in this damn hospital has set their pager to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.


	3. Beneficence I

**AN: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, including the two direct quotes that appear in this chapter. Feedback is always appreciated.**

Chapter 3: Beneficence I

BPOV

I fiddled with the mug of coffee in my hands, watching the curls of steam rise. In truth, there was so much cream and sugar in the cup that I was perjuring myself by still calling it coffee. Normally, the combination of sugar and caffeine would be enough to jump start my system. I needed to wake up; to focus on the assignment in front of me. This paper wasn't going to write itself.

It had been five days since I last saw Edward Cullen. I can still remember the smell of his cologne and it reminded me of honey, of lilac and of the sun itself. Simply unbelievable; I was obsessing over how my doctor smells to the point where I can't perform the functions of daily life. I was a wreck. I couldn't focus. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep.

Because if I slept, I dreamt of _him_. I dreamt of his touch, feathery light but ghosting over my entire body. I dreamt of his intense eyes raking my body. I dreamt of his sinfully velvet voice whispering in my ear as his oh so soft hands and piano player fingers drive me wild. And I dreamt in vivid enough detail that the very memory triggered my face to flush.

I glanced around Panera self-consciously, as if someone could sense the inappropriate thoughts running through my head. The area around me was mostly deserted – not surprising, given that it was already late evening. The only other occupants of the café were two tables over from me, gossiping over a late dinner. I turned back to my laptop screen, but my mind was still drawing a blank. As I sat there, trying to brainstorm, the conversation from my neighbors floated to my ears.

"He was offered a position in surgery, you know. There's the whole legacy thing on his side and he got top marks at the University of Washington as a surgery resident."

"No way. What's he doing in emergency medicine if he trained to be a surgeon?"

"That's just it – he turned down the surgery spot! He said his 'interests had changed' and that he was now interested in being in EM! Unbelievable."

"And what? Surgery just rolled over and gifted him to EM? I would have expected them to sink their claws as deep into his raw talent as they could."

"Well, the story gets better here," the woman paused. I guessed she was looking around to be sure that nobody was eavesdropping on her conversation. Or perhaps she was eating a spoonful of her rapidly cooling soup. I didn't dare look over to check; instead, I typed a line of gibberish into the open Word document and pretended to be absorbed by my computer.

I knew what I was doing was wrong – even if Renee hadn't been the model candidate to learn morals from, I had read enough of "Dear Abby" in the papers to know basic etiquette. But damned if I hadn't figured out exactly who these women were talking about and I had already heard enough that eavesdropping for a little while longer couldn't hurt. I shifted so that I could see them in the corner of my eye, careful to maintain the charade of reading my laptop screen.

"You can't just stop there – finish the story!" the second woman hissed. It appeared that she shared my sentiments. I said a silent thank you to her in my head as the first woman, a blonde, began to speak again.

"Alright, alright. He actually has a dual assignment to surgery as well as emergency med." I saw the blonde lean back in her seat and give her brunette companion a meaningful look.

"What? But there's no such thing as a surgery/EM spot. That doesn't make any sense, Lauren."

"I _know_ it doesn't make sense, Jessica." The blonde, Lauren, leaned forward again. "But when daddy is chief of staff and big brother is already making waves in neurosurg, there was no way that the head of surgery was going to let him go. Especially when everyone says he's such prodigy. "

"So… they _created_ it just to appease him? Apparently, because he's Edward Cullen, none of the normal positions are good enough for him?" Jessica seemed torn between being impressed and disdainful at the special treatment. She sniffed haughtily, apparently deciding that disdain was the proper reaction, and I wondered vaguely what her back story was for disliking Edward.

Never mind that two weeks ago, I was president of the "I hate Edward Cullen" club.

"But you can't deny that it's nice to have him around the emergency room. It improves the scenery, if you will." Lauren laughed at her own suggestive comment.

"Yeah, but it's not like he's ever going to stoop to date us mere humans. I swear, sometimes I wonder if he even has blood running through his veins. He's such a cold fish." Jessica's expression was sour and I was beginning to get an idea of why she seemed annoyed with Edward.

"There's always the rest of the family. Talk about genetic goldmine – I would not object to a piece of Carlisle Cullen. And have you seen the rippling muscles on Emmett Cullen? Now there's a man's man." Lauren's tone of voice when discussing two men I'd always thought of as a father and brother made me squirm uncomfortably in my seat. As informative as these ladies had been, the rest of their conversation would probably leave me needing some very expensive psychological therapy.

Luckily, my phone trilled at me at that exact moment. I seized upon the distraction like a lifeline, blocking as much of Jessica's complaints about hospital regulations as I could. No doubt there was a lewd joke buried in there somewhere, but I wasn't about to listen closely enough to find it.

I was surprised to see a text message from Rosalie pop up. I had messaged her hours ago about meeting up for dinner. I felt like I had barely seen Rosalie's scowling face as of late. She was always studying with her nursing student friends or on shift at the hospital. With Alice over at Jasper's so often, it was beginning to get very lonely in the apartment.

Not surprisingly, Rose's text said that she was covering the night call for one of her friends and wouldn't have time to leave the hospital for dinner. I glanced at my watch, chewing on my lower lip as I debated the best course of action. Shrill laughter exploded to my left, and I let a wry smile appear on my face as my decision was practically made for me. There was no way I was going to get any work done here anyway – might as well do a good deed.

I packed up my belongings rapidly, sparing just enough of a glance at the two women to register that they were wearing nursing scrubs. Quickly dumping my now stone cold coffee, I hopped up to the register and ordered two of Rosalie's favorite salad. She abhorred the cafeteria food and was always complaining about how unhealthy it was. She would be thrilled to have a freshly made salad catered to her. Truth be told, I also had a bit of a guilty conscience about the whole pager incident from earlier this week. She had never mentioned it to me, which pretty much confirmed my hypothesis that I had gotten her in trouble. Nothing made amends better than an asiago chicken salad.

I cinched my scarf carefully and pushed through the double doors into the frigid Chicago air. Luckily, the cold weather had made me choose a café close to our apartment, meaning that the hospital was just a tiny detour on my route back home. Even so, the wind cut right through the layers I was wearing and I thought longingly of all those winters I had spent in Phoenix as a child.

As usual, a toasty wave of air met me as the sliding doors to the ER entrance opened automatically. I yanked my hat off as I walked towards the front. Gianna was on the phone, so I simply held up the take out bag from Panera and gave her my best puppy dog eyes. Her lips thinned and she rolled her eyes at me, but she buzzed me through the doors all the same.

Once again, Rose wasn't immediately visible at the nursing station as I came around the hallway. I swore the girl was going to become a ghost at this rate. I took a calming breath and continued walking toward the central island of desks but something caught my eye and I stumbled to a dead stop.

Seriously, did Edward Cullen live in the hospital?

His back was to me and it quickly became evident to me that he was typing up a patient note. He seemed totally engrossed in his task, and perhaps slightly frustrated. I watched mutely as he ran his hand – the hand that tormented me in my dreams – through his copper colored hair before letting out a sigh. I had a tiny, crazy part of me desire to know what was causing him to be so stressed out; the rest of me wanted to turn and flee before he realized I was, once again, in the ER.

"Can I help you, dear?" A middle-aged nurse walked up to me, smiling pleasantly.

"Uh, yeah, actually. I was looking for Rosalie Hale – she's a nursing student," I murmured back softly though I knew my efforts at subterfuge would likely be in vain. I was pretty sure Edward Cullen had the hearing of a vampire bat.

"Sue, have you had a chance to look at the patient in room seven? She was wandering around a few minutes ago." His voice was all-business and for a moment, even I wondered if his timing wasn't just chance.

"Oh, right away, Dr. Cullen." The nurse seemed a bit surprised by his comment but turned back to me to answer, "I don't believe she's on shift tonight. Sorry." She turned and walked over to far end of the ER, pausing to knock before disappearing into one of the exam rooms.

I drew my eyebrows together in frustration. I had already known that Rosalie wasn't on the original schedule to be on shift tonight, but her text had clearly said she was spending the night in the hospital. I bit my lip again and wondered if I should risk calling her cell phone directly. I had no idea what her pager number was.

"You look troubled, Miss Swan." He was watching me, all pretense of paperwork gone from the screen. His gaze lingered on my wrist as he looked me up and down once. I had the sneaking suspicion that he was trying to assess what damage I could have done to myself this time.

"Well, like I said, I'm looking for Rosalie." I glanced around, as if to make a point, but in reality, I was just trying avoid meeting his eyes. I was still embarrassed at having mistaken his exam for a romantic gesture.

"Sue was correct. Rosalie left the hospital several hours ago." He seemed perplexed by my persistence.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I saw her leave myself."

Now I was really confused. Rosalie had just texted me, saying that she had switched to the night shift. And now Edward was trying to convince me that she had left the hospital long ago. Something wasn't adding up. I pulled out my cell phone and hit the speed dial for her number before realizing that cell phones were strictly prohibited in the ER. I dared a glance at Edward, but he seemed content to observe my antics quietly instead of chastise me for breaking the rules.

Her phone went straight to voicemail and I hung up before the beep, too irritated to leave a message.

"Is there anything else you needed here?" His eyes had never left me. I looked up unwillingly from the phone clenched in my fist and saw his face for the first time that evening. Deep purple shadows lay underneath his eyes, giving him the appearance of exhaustion. I noted that he was even paler than me – quite a feat considering I was constantly being told I was anemic. When was the last time he'd ever seen the sun?

Against my own will, I felt a wave of pity for him. If what I heard was more than idle chatter, he was probably pushing himself to the limit in order to fulfill the duties of two doctors. No wonder he was always in the hospital, day or night. I wondered if he even took breaks for meals.

"Have you eaten?" I blurted out before my brain could filter my mouth.

He seemed taken aback by the question, unsure of what I was getting at, but shook his head to say no.

"Do you like Panera? I got two salads because I thought Rosalie was on call tonight, but I guess I must have mixed up her schedule in my head. You look like you haven't eaten in a while so I just thought…" I trailed off, equal parts embarrassed at my forwardness and frightened of the way his eyes seemed to darken as I spoke.

I waited with bated breath for what seemed like eternity.

And then my stomach let out a growl. Mortified, I could feel my face begin to heat up. I was shocked, however, to hear the low but melodious laughter that followed my faux-pas. My traitorous stomach did a little flip flop at the sound but I was too captivated by the noise to notice.

"I really shouldn't, but if it means that you will eat too, I accept." His eyes were light again – almost merry – and he offered me a crooked grin. Had the offer of food really made that much of a difference? Was his foul temper really just the result of him being _hungry_?

I nodded mutely, struck dumb by how easily his black mood had dissipated. Or perhaps I was just struck dumb by how _good_ that smile looked on his face. I jumped when I felt the slight pressure on the small of my back, but let myself be led toward the cafeteria without protest. This close, I could smell his cologne again and the heady feeling made me suspect that I would be getting little sleep in the next few nights.

"Would you like anything to drink, Miss Swan?" He had a coke, a bottled lemonade and a bottle of water in his hands.

"Stop calling me that. I'm not here as a patient." I frowned, realizing that my surname sounded oddly stilted and formal from his lips. I had never really registered what he had addressed me as before, too absorbed in plotting ways to make a run for the exit.

"Bella," he corrected himself, acknowledging my point with a tiny nod.

"How do you know my name?" I was surprised that he didn't try to call me Isabella.

"I think the whole hospital knows your name. Your record is pretty thick."

"No, I meant, why did you call me Bella?" I didn't know why, but I felt an irrational need to push the point.

"Do you prefer Isabella?" He seemed confused again.

"No, I like Bella." I paused but figured I might as well finish, "I was just surprised that you knew that."

"Oh. Well. Alice talks about you a lot." He seemed uncomfortable at his admission but sat down across from me and placed the drinks in the middle of the table. I passed him one of the salads before opening the lemonade bottle and taking a sip. It seemed that both of my roommates would have a lot of explaining to do after tonight.

Edward seemed content to eat in silence and there was a lapse in the conversation. I stared down at my salad, unable to work up the nerve to question him about any of the things that I had heard earlier this evening. Mentally shrugging to myself, I settled for sneaking peeks at him when I thought he wasn't looking, wondering exactly what he was hiding from the world.

A year ago, if someone had asked me for three words to describe Edward Cullen, I would have chosen "complete", "utter", and "bastard." Now, as I sat here, words like "gorgeous" and "mysterious" and even "sexy" kept popping into my head.


	4. NonMaleficence I

**AN: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, including the two direct quotes that appear in this chapter. Feedback is always appreciated - this is the preliminary version of this chapter, so please excuse any grammatical errors made from exhaustion. I know this will seem disjointed, but keep in mind that this is how Bella sees events happening.  
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**Chapter 4: Non-maleficence I

BPOV

Fat flakes of snow were swirling lazily in the air. It was almost idyllic to watch the city being blanketed in another clean layer of white. I pressed my hand against the large windows lining the south side of the Winter Garden and tried unsuccessfully to suppress the shiver that ran down my spine. The cold seeping through the glass reminded me of a different sort of touch. I bit my lower lip, warring with myself for a moment, before leaning forward until my forehead touched the glass. I let out a soft breath as my eyes slid shut and for a moment, I could slip into the dreamland that was becoming more familiar to me each night.

Twelve times I had dreamt of him. And in each one, his touch both left me cold and made me burn. Some nights, we were lying side by side in a lush meadow, ringed by wildflowers. But I never smelled the flowers; I was too drunk off the smell of his cologne as our foreheads pressed together. Other nights, my hands were fisted in his copper hair as his teeth and tongue traced the contours of my neck. I always woke up in a cold sweat and when the most innocent of things reminded me of the dreams, I turned as red as an apple. My traitorous face told the world of my sinful subconscious.

I sighed and opened my eyes once again, refocusing on the city in front of me. I was procrastinating, and I knew it. I was avoiding returning home. Actually, it seemed like I was avoiding everything and everyone these days. Ever since having dinner with Edward a week ago, I knew that I couldn't face Alice without spilling dirty secrets I probably wasn't even aware I had. Not to mention the one that I knew all too well about: my growing crush on Edward Cullen. I feared returning to my own apartment and the inquisition it contained, so I volunteered for extra shifts at my part time job.

This, of course, meant that I was no closer to discovering whatever Rosalie was hiding. Shelving books and helping patrons of the Harold Washington Library find various collections was mostly brainless work, so I had plenty of time to wonder why Rose would suddenly decide to lie to me. No doubt, Alice The Psychic already knew the answer to this riddle but I was avoiding all of her phone calls so that avenue was blocked from my use. I was becoming more frustrated with each passing day.

I took a look at my reflection in the glass and saw the fatigue in my red rimmed eyes. Twilight had long since passed and it was dark outside. My shift had ended an hour ago, but I had decided to wander the top floor of the library instead of heading straight back to my truck. Ostensibly, I was supposed to be doing some research for a paper I was writing for class, but I had wasted the time wandering aimlessly around the vast room. My black ballet flats whispered across the marble floor as I turned from the window and started back towards the elevator bank, having resigned myself to going home.

The elevator ride was mercilessly short and I swung by the staff room to collect my coat and keys. The library had closed to the public and I waved to Benjamin, the lone security guard, as I walked towards the atrium.

"Do be careful, Miss Swan. There is a lot of ice out tonight," he called back. I couldn't help but smile a little. He was a kind guy who had seen me take many a spill on the steps outside.

"Will do. Have a good night, Benjamin," I replied as I buttoned up my coat.

I pushed the doors open and took a step outside. Immediately, I felt my foot slip and only my grip on the door handle prevented me from kissing the pavement. My shoes, while practical inside the library, were so worn down that they offered almost no traction on the slick ice. They had served me well, though, and I stubbornly refused Alice's offers to upgrade them to something more "appropriate." Knowing her, "appropriate" consisted of four inch spike heels that would make me fall indoors as well as outdoors.

I held tightly to the side of the building as I made my way down the sidewalk. Benjamin hadn't been kidding – there was a lot of ice underneath the thin layer of snow I could see. Luckily, my old red truck was parked in a lot not too far from the library. If I could make it there in one piece, I was home safe. Charlie had visited unexpectedly at the start of winter; before he left, he'd had snow tires placed on my truck. On nights like this, I appreciated that the Chief was a man of actions rather than words.

The crosswalk switched to allow me to cross and I slowly made my way to the other side of the street. As I reached the open parking lot on the corner, I congratulated myself on having made it to my truck without any major spills. Holding onto the side of my truck with one hand for balance, I shoved the other one into my messenger bag in search of my keys. The cold bit at my face and my gloves made my search clumsy. I heard my phone begin ring the cheery tune Alice had programmed in for herself.

Muttering an oath under my breath, I pulled my bag forward more and tried to peer into it. Distantly, I heard a car horn sound. Huffing, I tried to push a hank of my hair back from my face while still using my hand to search for my phone and keys. I heard more car horns blaring and brakes screeching. Annoyed, I looked up to see a blue minivan careening directly at me.

I reacted without thinking, dropping my bag and shoving myself sideways with the hand I had been using to hold onto my truck. My feet didn't get any purchase on the sheet of ice surrounding my truck and I threw my arm out to catch myself. I gasped in pain as I felt my left wrist shatter at the impact. I crumpled to the ground. Through the tears in my eyes, I saw the minivan hit my truck exactly where I had been standing just a moment previously. A hideous crunch of metal on metal brought a horrific realization upon me.

The truck that I had always felt so safe in – the old truck that was built like a tank – was not giving way as the minivan hit. Instead, the minivan began to crumple and change trajectory. To quote a seven year old: my truck was rubber… and I was glue. Except that instead of words, we were talking about a two ton vehicle.

I felt a rush of adrenaline pour through me. Or maybe it was fear.

Rolling to my side, I ignored my left wrist. The pain seemed no more than a dull throb in my feverish mind. With my right hand, I clawed at the side of my truck, trying to gain some sort of purchase. Hooking my good arm into the truck bed, I frantically pulled myself upward and away from the rotating van.

I was not so lucky in my second attempt to dodge the oncoming minivan.

I felt something slam into me from behind and in the blink of an eye, I was pinned against my own truck in excruciating pain. It felt like fire was racing through all of my body, red hot and piercing. My muscles seized up and I tried to scream, but all that I could hear was more of that metallic grating. I felt a snap and the pain in the lower half of my body doubled. For a moment that seemed never to end, that's all I felt. Just the fiery torture and my soundless shrieks, pleading for death to come. One infinite moment of pain.

As I began to see black encroaching on my vision, my mind began to shut down and I was convinced that I now knew how my toothpaste tube felt every morning. A manic laugh burbled up inside me at the sheer insanity of my thoughts as the blackness happily overtook me. My world went silent.

"Miss!" I heard something murkily through the blackness. I didn't want to be disturbed. I liked the blackness.

"Can you hear me?" called another voice.

"Help me move this van – she's trapped," the first voice yelled back.

He wasn't talking to me. I could go back to the pleasant oblivion I had been in. I tried to let myself be lulled back into senselessness, but I was unable to completely block the buzz of activity going on around me. All of a sudden, I felt the pressure behind me release and like a ragdoll cut from its strings, I toppled to the ground. I could feel the pain beginning to enter my consciousness again and I fought to remain in the eternity that the blackness offered me. I heard a muffled curse and a crash before little pieces of hail began to hit me, reigniting my already hypersensitive pain sensors for a moment before the world fell away again.

I wavered between the hazy blackness and the outside world for an unidentifiable amount of time. Once, I felt a cool hand brush against my forehead. Another time, I could have sworn I heard someone whisper my name. But I could get no sense of what was happening to me. Was I in another dream? Would I wake up to find that this had all been a nightmare?

I heard a distant beeping. My throat ached and burned. I tried to swallow, but succeeded only in causing myself to gag on something long and solid lodged in me. I began to panic and tried yank whatever was in my mouth out but my arms felt leaden and the tiniest movement reignited a wave of pain in them.

"Bella, can you hear me?" a calm voice broke through my anxiety attack. "I'm going to need you to calm down, Bella. Everything is going to be ok. You're still recovering from the effects of anesthesia, so your body isn't going to respond quite like normal right away."

As if I hadn't been on enough of an emotional rollercoaster, I felt my insides clench as I recognized the soothing voice. Of course, my internal organs responded to this instinct by screaming in pain and with a choking gasp, I was out cold once again.

Except this time, I did dream. It wasn't cohesive. It wasn't anything I had dreamt before. Yet, the dream was familiar. I had flashes of cold hands, a velvet voice and fleeting kisses – all more real than they had ever been before. In between the snippets of sanity, I experienced bouts of pain that would have had lesser men writhing in pain. In my dreams, I screamed until the pain receded and I finally felt the cool, calming touch. When I strained, I sometimes caught the smell of something sweet mixed into a harsh chemical background.

It was that distant, incessant beeping that caused me to finally get sick of my dream prison. Irritated, I decided to find the alarm and turn it off. Five more minutes of sleep couldn't hurt me – maybe I would just hit snooze a couple of times.

I tried to open my eyes and failed. My eyelids were heavy and stuck together from sleep. I made a second attempt and managed to crack my eyes open. Everything I could see was an antiseptic white. There was a dull, throbbing pain in my body and I was tempted to sleep once again. I fought the urge, choosing to open my eyes fully instead.

As I took in a full view of the room around me, I realized where I was. The heart rate monitor picked up the pace of its ceaseless beeping as I pieces of my memory tried to fit themselves back into place. It was dark in the room and despite the cotton wool feeling in my head, I realized that it must have been nighttime. There was still a tube in my mouth and I wondered vaguely how long I had been in the hospital. My throat hurt fiercely, a sharp contrast to the rest of my body's dull ache.

The door creaked open and I was not surprised to see Edward walk in, framed by light from the hallway. His hair, though usually artfully disheveled, looked unkempt. He had stubble across his jawline and there were dark circles under his eyes. His face looked sallow and drawn. His eyes were darker than the blackness I had just been floating in.

He walked over to my bedside and as he adjusted to the dim room, his eyes met mine as I ended my perusal of his face. I felt my face heat up. Even if this normally devastatingly handsome man looked like Cerberus had used him like a chew toy, there was no way I was in any better shape after having been crushed between two cars. Yet again, Edward Cullen had me at a disadvantage.

"Bella," he whispered. "Are you awake? Blink twice if you can hear me."

Instead, I tried to use my right hand to yank the breathing tube out of my lungs. I fumbled with it clumsily before his hands covered mine, halting my motion and returning my hands to my sides.

"That's the second time you've tried to extubate yourself, Bella. If you don't do it properly, you're going to injure your throat even more." He looked disapprovingly at me, but his tone was surprisingly gentle. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair in an almost nervous manner. "I really shouldn't but…"

He turned around and consulted some of the machines next to my bed. After another moment, he looked back over at me and seemed to come to a decision. He gently pulled away the tape holding the tube to the side of my mouth before cupping my jaw and easing the plastic out. The minute it was clear of my lips, I dissolved into a bout of silent, hacking coughing. My throat was bone dry; I tried to swallow, but found no relief. I would have committed murder for a drink at that moment as I smacked my chapped lips together.

"I know you're thirsty, but just bear with it for now. I can't give you water in case you aspirate it," he said, still speaking in a whisper.

I still didn't understand why I couldn't have a drink, and frowned. Edward's next comment convinced me that he really was a mind reader after all. "If you swallow incorrectly and some of the water gets into your lungs, you could end up catching pneumonia."

It wasn't like I really had much of a choice, so I resigned myself to being parched. Edward sat down in the chair that had been pulled close to my bed. I felt weary, but his surprisingly gentle bedside manner tonight made me want to remain awake, if only to hear him talk. Once again, he obliged me.

"Just bear with it until morning. Your mother just fell asleep; we didn't expect you to wake up tonight. I just increased your pain killers so that you can go back to sleep," he murmured to me softly before making a motion to get up.

_Stay. _I silently begged him not to leave my side, even as I felt the drugs kicking in. My eyelids began to slide closed as I felt his hand rest gently atop mine.

"I'll be here when you wake up in the morning," he promised and I fell asleep as he watched over me.


	5. Autonomy II

**AN: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer. My apologies for the delay on this chapter; you'll find it to be significantly longer than normal. This is the preliminary version, so please excuse any errors present (or point them out for me to correct.) As always, leave a review if you liked it – even if it's just a smiley face.**

Chapter 5: Autonomy II

BPOV

"-longer. Should be soon."

I could hear indistinct voices. I struggled to understand where the noises were coming from. I was in a cocoon of warmth and safety and these sounds were slowly dragging me from it. Some small part of my subconscious wiggled, reminding me that I had wanted to be awake. Why hadn't I wanted to sleep?

I inhaled deeply and as a faint, but familiar scent hit me, I remembered: Edward.

Edward had been staying with me all night. He had promised to be here with me while my mother slept. And… oh god, Edward was probably speaking to Renee.

My eyes snapped open so quickly that my vision went rapidly from all white to black before returning slowly. Blinking away the spots that persisted in floating in the way, I turned just as my mother enveloped me in a full bodied hug.

"Bella! Oh, my Bella. Your eyes are open - you're awake!" Renee, hysterical with relief, was sticking to just stating facts in order to keep her composure. As I felt a warm wetness on my check, I wondered how my normally hare-brained mother had survived this ordeal without me there to comfort her. Not that my thoughts remained on my mother for long.

I knew it made me a terrible daughter, but I tried to crane my neck around Renee's hair to catch a glimpse of Edward. All I could see was the sleeve of his white coat, pristinely clean. I knew I should have focused on calming my mother down, but Edward was a regular Houdini – if I didn't get an eyeful of him now, there was a good chance I wouldn't see him for the rest of my hospital stay… however long that was going to be. I decided not to think about that unhappy thought for the time being.

"Mom, I'm fine," I said. Actually, it came out as more of a croak than anything else. I tried to clear my throat, but it was still as arid as a desert and I was forced to lapse into silence.

My short statement had the opposite effect of my intention. Instead of releasing me, Renee started to squeeze me even tighter while sobs still wracked her body.

"Now, now, Mrs. Dwyer. I understand that you are upset, but Bella is in a very fragile state right now – you could be causing her pain."

I froze as two pale hands pried Renee off of me. They looked almost translucent; I could see a fine meshwork of veins through the papery thin skin. The voice that had spoken was soft and whispery, masking the faint edge of command it contained. His words rang hollow in my practiced ear; I had heard enough of fake empathy in my many ER visits to spot it with little trouble.

As Renee moved to the side of the room, presumably to grab a tissue and wipe her tears, I was given my first unobstructed view of the man in the white coat. It was decidedly not Edward Cullen. The doctor had a pale face to match his hands and a head of dark, straight hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. This seemingly young hairstyle somehow made him seem all the older – like he was several millennia old instead of the handful of decades I assumed he had seen.

"Bella." He smiled widely at me as he drew closer, his hand extended toward me in a friendly manner.

I couldn't shake the predatory feeling that his smile, too full of white teeth, left me with. Whatever of my insides that hadn't been squished into paste in the accident were warning me that nothing good was going to come from this man.

He grasped my right hand lightly, lifting it from my side before enclosing it within both of his own while staring straight into my face. I knew that he was taking my pulse, an essential vital sign, but it felt like in that motion, he was trying to read my past, present and future. His eyes were a reddish brown, glinting oddly in the artificial lights of my hospital room. Attempting to escape his apprising look, which was making me feel much like I was about to become his meal, I averted my eyes to the scripted red embroidery on his breast.

Aro Volterra, MD. Chief of Surgery.

"Who are you?" I blurted out, even as I felt my throat strain. My real question – where was Edward? – remained lodged in my voice box.

"Bella! Don't be so rude!" Renee's disembodied voice chastised me from somewhere behind the doctor.

"It's quite alright, Mrs. Dwyer." He didn't spare Renee a glance as he spoke. "I'm Dr. Aro Volterra, Bella." Once again, he drew out my name in a way that suggested an unsettling familiarity with me.

I opened my mouth to repeat my question but he cut me off.

"You may call me Dr. Aro. I've heard so much about you from young Edward." He punctuated his statement with another predatory smile before pulling out a pen light and beginning to examine my eyes.

This was Edward's boss. I closed my mouth and swallowed dusty air as I made the connection between the title printed on his coat and the conversation I had overheard in Panera just over a week ago. I felt an unhappy twinge in my chest at the realization that Edward had not only lied about being here when I woke, but that he had dumped me on yet another doctor. It had seemed like we had gotten along last night – why had he suddenly changed his mind?

"Can you tell me your full name?" Dr. Aro interrupted my thoughts as he began what I recognized was a neurologic exam.

"Isabella Marie Swan," I replied before dissolving into more coughing. "Water, please?"

"I'm afraid I can't give you liquids quite yet, Bella. But I believe we have some ice chips here for you to get some moisture into your mouth." Dr. Aro turned and snatched a Styrofoam cup from the tray table near my bed. He plucked out two thin wedges of ice and brought them to my lips.

I was mortified. He expected to feed me? I wasn't an invalid quite yet, thank you. I opened my mouth to tell him such, only to be shocked wordless when he took the gesture as consent to push the ice between my parted lips. What was it with doctors in this hospital always thinking they knew what was best for me?

As if she knew that I was about to spit the ice back into Dr. Aro's face, Renee caught my eye from her spot in the corner and wordlessly conveyed exactly how much trouble that action would land me in. I sighed and let the anger drain out of me, not because I feared Renee's retribution (what would she do – make me eat her cooking?) but more because I felt I had put her though enough trouble today. She looked so haggard and lost, here all by herself. Where was Phil? Had she told Charlie about the accident?

"Follow my finger without moving your head, please. And can you tell me where you are at the moment, Bella?" Once again, my thoughts were interrupted.

"I'm in the hospital." I sullenly replied as I followed the "H" his finger traced in the air. The ice cubes had mostly melted and had done wonders for my dry mouth. My throat was no longer scratchy, but I was still very thirsty. I normally would have thanked him for the ice, but I was quickly growing to dislike this man.

"Alright, now can you squeeze your eyes really tightly? And clench your jaw?" Dr. Aro began to power through what I vaguely recalled was some sort of exam of the head. As he had me perform a variety of motions, he peppered me with all sorts of questions ranging from asking me to spell 'world' backward to asking me the meaning of 'don't cry over split milk.'

As he paused to note the findings of the exam down on my chart, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Dr. Aro called out, seeming suddenly to be very pleased with himself.

The door swung open and my disheveled savior strode into the room. His hair was damp and his scrub top was untucked from his pants. He had his white coat slung haphazardly over one arm and carried a white Styrofoam cup in the other hand. He checked himself before taking three steps and froze, eyes darting wildly back and forth between his boss and me.

"Aro," he greeted my unwelcome consult cautiously, as if wary of setting off a landmine. "I didn't expect to find you in here."

"Ah, young Edward, you cut me to the core. How could I not personally see to a patient who means so much to Carlisle? Indeed, you seem to have taken a personal interest in her case yourself." An indulgent smile was creeping across his face.

"I am attentive to all the patients in my care, of course," Edward replied smoothly.

"Nobody is suggesting otherwise, my dear boy. But I thought that with all your responsibilities elsewhere, you might be pressed to handle an inpatient. Perhaps you'd like to transfer Bella over to my care."

"I thank you, but your services are unnecessary today," Edward replied, smiling tightly.

"Are you quite certain? You know hospital protocol, of course." Aro's smile was still firmly in place, but I could sense some sort of tension underlying his words. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of fear pass across Edward's eyes, but it was gone before I could be certain it hadn't been a figment of my drug-riddled mind. "This is a teaching hospital, if you wish to carry your own patients, you need to be on the rotation here," Aro finished.

"I'm positive. I've actually just spoken to the ED to cut back on some of my hours there. Putting some of that time towards carrying my own patients should be no problem at all." Edward seemed oddly relieved about something. "I'll find Heidi and make sure that I'm listed as an active member of the surgical service team after I finish seeing to Miss Swan."

I felt a physical jolt and what seemed to be an entire bucketful of ice settled in my stomach when I heard his formal address. Miss Swan. I was nothing more than another patient; another id number in a thin paper gown. I chastised myself internally for being so shocked – of course my feelings were unrequited. But to hear my surname fall so impersonally from his lips so soon after his tender manner last night was a shock to my already abused system. I barely managed to shake myself out of my stupor to catch the end of the exchange.

"You won't mind if I remain to observe the remainder of the exam, seeing as I've already completed the cranial nerve and psychological portions." Aro's smile seemed to be genuinely pleased now. I wondered what I had missed for this change to occur.

"Of course not," Edward shook his head in assent. I wondered if he really even had a choice.

Dr. Aro stepped back from the bedside and Edward – Dr. Cullen now, I mentally corrected myself – took his place.

"How are you feeling, Miss Swan?" He asked while visually examining me from head to toe – his now familiar and normal action whenever seeing me for the first time.

"Thirsty," I replied, honestly and brusquely, still stung from his dispassionate way of addressing me.

He quirked half a smile for a moment, melting my ire and restoring "Edward" to where "Dr. Cullen" had stood just a moment before. "We'll see about getting you a glass of water soon since Dr. Aro's examination suggests that you should be able to swallow normally. If you don't mind, I'm going to take a look at how you are doing first. Is that alright?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice to be steady at the prospect of his touch, however innocent it would be.

Edward leaned over to push a button and the top half of my bed raised itself slowly, easing me into a half-sitting position. "Can you grasp my fingers in your hands? Squeeze them as tightly as you can." I shakily wrapped my hands around each of his index and middle fingers before trying as hard as I could to grip them. He frowned for a moment before carefully rearranging his face to be blank.

Without pausing to explain himself, Edward began to run me through a series of pushes and pulls. He would tell me to put my arms into various positions and have me try to move into one direction or another. Each time, he would place his hands against me, trying to resist my movement. Nothing that he saw seemed to please him, judging by the furrow that was steadily forming between his eyebrows.

I felt my own frustration growing as my arm movements seemed clumsy and tired despite my best efforts at being precise. Of course, the cast on my left wrist wasn't helping my cause. I wondered how I had missed noticing it the night before. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming.

"You seem to have some muscle weakness in your arms. This may just be a temporary side effect of all the swelling that you have due to the trauma. I'm going to move onto your legs now, so I'm going to lower the sheet."

I nodded silently once again, holding my breath as Edward's slender fingers hooked onto the top of the sheet resting just underneath my breasts. A fragment of a dream flashed into my mind and for a moment, all I saw was Edward and myself in the room, his hands roaming my body. Immediately, I flushed and averted my eyes from his hands to the watch on his left wrist. In an effort to calm my blush, I focused on reading the time and was surprised to discover that it was barely 8:30 in the morning.

"Can you push your feet down against my hands?" Edward continued the exam and I did as I was told, studiously avoiding his face to prevent another blush.

There was a pause.

"Miss Swan, I need you to push against my hands, please," Edward repeated patiently.

"I am," I replied and doubled my effort as I focused my gaze on my exposed toes. There was no movement and once again, there was a pause.

"Can you lift your leg for me?" Edward asked slowly in a calming voice. I willed my legs to move, but once again, there was no movement. I felt panic begin to creep into me.

"I understand that this seems worrisome to you, but we're going to take care of this for you." Once again, as if he could read my mind, Edward answered my unspoken plea for help. He reached over to a nearby drawer and pulled out a tongue depressor. Quickly snapping it in half, he held the jagged edge up for me to see. "I'm going to poke you with this. It's sharp, but it isn't nearly sharp enough to pierce your skin. Tell me when you feel a slight pain."

He pushed the stick against my right big toe. I felt nothing. He pushed it against my left big toe. Still nothing. Undeterred, he prodded each of my legs all the way up to the hem of my hospital issued gown. Pausing only for a millisecond to stare at the edge of fabric, he continued upward, pressing the jagged edge against me through the fabric. Finally, as he reached the level of my bellybutton, I felt the slight prick of his action.

"I feel it," I choked the words out as a wave of fear rolled through me. I tore my gaze away from where the wood was pressing against me to meet his eyes. They were narrowed and appeared almost coal black from my angle.

"What's wrong with her?" Renee's voice expressed all the terror that was steadily growing in me.

Edward stood straight and ran his free hand through his hair, searching for words. "It appears that there may be some spinal cord damage from the accident. We will need to get Miss Swan down to the MRI as soon as possible."

"Bella."

Edward stared at me as if I had suddenly sprouted fur all over my body.

"My name is Bella." I repeated myself, putting my hand on his and looking straight into the depths of his eyes. My world was slowly spinning out of my hands and I latched onto the only thing over which I had some semblance of control: what he called me.

"Bella," he agreed, his voice warmed the word and wrapped it around me in an unspoken promise. His eyes appeared greener and his determined expression calmed me down better than any sedative could have. He turned his hand so that our palms met and gave me a reassuring squeeze. "We're going to get through this together, Bella."

"Well, I think it would be best if you remained with Bella for now, Edward." Aro's voice carried softly though the room. I had long since forgotten that he was there. "I will take my leave in order to arrange for her to have an MRI scheduled for this afternoon."

Edward seemed to recollect himself for a moment. It appeared that I wasn't the only one who had forgotten about Aro skulking in the corner. Or perhaps he was shocked to see Aro being so solicitous? Dr. Aro didn't strike me as a normally generous person, I thought to myself, rather unkindly.

"Oh, and Edward," Aro paused at the door, turning slightly. "I would like Jane to be on your consult team for Bella."


	6. Justice II

**AN: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer. Please excuse any errors present (or point them out for me to correct.) As always, leave a review if you liked it – even if it's just a smiley face. This chapter is short but the next should be out soon to make up for it.**

Chapter 6: Justice II

BPOV

Edward was gazing at me anxiously. "You're shaking," he said.

"The shaking is a side effect of the terror," I laughed hysterically. "Don't worry about it."

"Bella, we're going to figure out what's going on. It will just take some time," he replied in a calming voice, ignoring my bitter joke entirely.

Edward had spent half an hour with me after Aro had left, painstakingly answering each of Renee's questions. I had been mostly quiet during the process, letting my mother ask about the tests that Edward wanted to run on me. He refused to give any predictions about my condition until he got the results back from the MRI. Despite all his words of encouragement, he had carefully sidestepped every question about whether I would regain the use of my legs. I knew that the more he hedged, the worse my prognosis probably was.

The initial numbness was wearing off now and I was faced with the sudden gravity of the situation. It was like a huge hole had been punched through my chest; my breath hitched painfully as the panic lurking in the depths of my core began to emerge. I shoved the feeling down viciously, refusing to let myself fall to pieces in front of either Edward or Renee. I summoned all the composure I had left in my broken body and wore it like a tattered cloak.

Yet, Edward's eyes remained on me the whole time he was in my room, as if he knew how fragile my shell was. Maybe he really _could_ read minds. When he finally had to leave to see other patients, he had actually squeezed my hand in reassurance. On any other day, I would have been doing cartwheels from the amount of attention I was receiving from him. But now… what grand romantic hopes could I have when he had just explained to my mother that the nurse would be changing my bedpan twice a day?

He didn't need to throw his indifference to me in my face though – I saw the 100-watt smile that he flashed the nurse on his way out. She was the pretty sort and seemed to know it. Nurse McFlirty had stopped in the doorway to chat with him, tossing her wavy brunette hair once or twice over her shoulder. Dr. Grumpy knew how to smile? It was a surprise that my poor abused system could still feel shock at this discovery.

Or maybe the shock was finding out that I had been unconscious for the better part of a week. That would have made more sense… but it was the image of his smile, burned into my vision that caused me to snap at the nurse when she finally turned her attention toward me once Edward left.

"How are you doing, Isabella?" the overly-chipper voice rang harshly in my ears.

"I'm a cripple. How do you _think_ I'm doing?" I scowled back at the nurse. She was young and slender. Although she was in scrubs, her hair and make-up were flawless. I felt like yesterday's trash and looked like last night's dinner.

"Ah. Yes. Dr. Aro mentioned you would be going for an MRI later today," she replied awkwardly, apparently unsure of how to handle my surly attitude. "I'm Jessica Stanley – the nurse assigned to your room." She smiled sweetly at me.

Jessica? Why did that name sound familiar? I was having an odd sense of déjà vu but couldn't quite place where I had seen her before. Maybe Rosalie had mentioned her?

"I go by Bella," I replied, still frowning.

"Ah. Okay. I'll try to remember that. Is there anything you need right now?" Her smile never faltered.

"Can I get something to drink?" I asked slowly, focusing more on jogging my memory than on conversing with her.

"Sure thing! I'll get you some water. Breakfast should be delivered soon, too," she chirped back before spinning around to leave the room in search of a water bottle.

I blinked. Most nurses I had interacted with had been helpful… but never quite as solicitous as Jessica appeared to be. Was that was Edward saw in her? He had never looked twice at Rosalie, but gave a killer smile to Jessica? He liked the cheerful, airheaded type? I scoffed internally as I tried to picture the two of them together. Before I could come up with a better reason for his behavior, the nurse in question was back at my side.

"Here you go. Don't drink it all at once – your body has to get used to food and drink in small amounts. Wouldn't want you to get sick," she tittered at her own joke. Her smile was still firmly in place but something in her expression shifted as she continued, "I understand that you're a good family friend of the Cullens. How long have you known Edward Cullen, anyway?"

Alarm bells began to go off in my head as I answered, "I went to school with his sister Alice and his brother Emmett, but I never knew Edward. He was already in college." Why was she asking me about him in particular?

"But isn't his brother older than him? Surely you would have known both brothers in school." She was fussing around with some of the cables and machines in order to linger.

"No, he graduated early. I think he only took a year of high school before he tested out of all the classes available. But that was all before his family moved to Forks, so I'm not really certain." Halfway through my response, I realized where I had seen Jessica before. She was the girl from Panera! She and her blonde friend had been gossiping about Edward while I eavesdropped. I had a sinking feeling that my words would not just stay with her.

"Oh, back when they were still living in Chicago?" Jessica prodded, undeterred. "I know that Dr. Cullen – that is, Dr. Carlisle Cullen – used to work with Dr. Aro in the past."

Well, that was news to me! Aro and Carlisle used to work together? It seemed like such a mismatched pair, no matter what angle I tried to look at it from. One of them was like an angel… the other was liable to be the angel of death.

"Uh, I guess? I don't really know much about that," I hedged, a little uncomfortable at how much Jessica seemed to already know about the Cullens.

"The Cullens don't like anybody… well, they don't usually notice anybody enough to like them. But he's still paying a lot of attention to you." She had dropped all pretense of nursing now, and was openly appraising me as I lay in front of her. Although she had named the whole Cullen family, I knew which one she was referring to specifically. Maybe she wasn't as much of an airhead as I had originally though.

I was saved from continuing down this dangerous path of questions by a knock at the door. Alice didn't even wait for a response before bounding in. Her tiny arms were full with various shopping bags, flowers and balloons in a riot of colors.

"Bella! I'm so glad you're awake," she beamed at me as she began depositing what looked like half of a department store next to my bed. "I've brought you everything you'll need for your stay. I was going to get worried if you hadn't woken up today – you've been asleep for four days! We've all been worried sick – even Rosalie. Don't let her convince you otherwise! She's been terrorizing all the nurses on the surgical floor about you. Oh. Hello! Who are you?"

A helpless smile worked its way onto my face as I listened to Alice's monologue. She barely spared time to breathe as she began to pull things out of bags, tossing what looked like a toiletry kit and a hairbrush onto my lap. I wasn't surprised that Jessica was still blinking at Alice, unable to process that the mile-a-minute pace of speech was addressed to her.

"Are you ok?" Alice waved a hand in front of Jessica's glazed eyes.

"Oh. Yes! Sorry. I'm Jessica, the nurse in charge of Bella." She flushed slightly and tried unsuccessfully to recreate her original smile. It seemed something about Alice had rattled Jessica.

"I see. Well, Bella is doing better now. I'll be with her, so you can take care of some of your other patients now." Alice smiled brightly, as if she had done Jessica a favor instead of dismissed her.

"Ah. Yes. Thank you. You can buzz if you need anything." Jessica spoke haltingly, having yet to become accustomed to Alice's take-charge nature. I almost felt sorry for her, but then, she wouldn't know true fear until she found herself in a shopping mall with Alice.

"That took long enough," Alice said absently as the door closed behind Jessica. "Though, I shouldn't really be surprised. Apparently, all the nurses on the floor were battling for the honor of being assigned to you."

"What?" I exclaimed. "Why? Why _me_?"

Alice hesitated for a moment. "Well, this is the first time Edward has agreed to have an inpatient in his care." She shrugged carelessly and began to fuss with the tangle of knots that was my hair.

"So? Why is that such a big deal?" I asked. I remembered the excitement that lit Aro's eyes when Edward had announced that he would be spending more time with the surgery department. There was some larger picture that I wasn't yet privy to yet, but damned if I wasn't going to find out.

"Well, they all think that this is his lead-in to becoming full-time in surgery. When we were kids, Carlisle used to practice in this hospital. He was good friends with the chief of the surgical department."

"Aro," I breathed.

Alice looked up, surprised that I knew the name. "Yes, Aro. He sees Edward almost like his own son. He's convinced that the hospital will profit much more if Edward's skills were under his guidance. Aro and his brothers are obsessed with money and reputation. It wore down on Carlisle in the past, which is why we moved to Forks. They remained on good terms, so Aro managed to convince Carlisle to return when Esme wanted to move back to Chicago. Anyway, enough about the old folk - has Edward been in to see you today?"

I valiantly (and probably futilely) tried to maintain a poker face as I replied, "Yeah, he was in here for a little while. He just left, actually."

Alice hummed noncommittally as she continued to fiddle with my hair, gently working out all the snags. I was fairly sure I could see some wheels turning in her dark little head. Lord protect us all if Alice has a plan – it was sure to be evil, to be dastardly, to be cunning.

"How's Phil doing?"

I blinked, thrown off by her non-sequitur. Phil? What did Phil have to do with anything? Well, besides the fact that his insurance was mostly likely going to hate him and his injury-prone stepdaughter.

"He's coping," Renee replied slowly, darting a glance towards me and looking suddenly nervous.

"What's wrong with Phil?" I asked, frowning.

"Don't worry about that, honey. Phil will be just fine." Renee's poker face was just as bad as mine.

"Phil threw out his back last week during practice and is laid up at home in Arizona," Alice piped in, helpfully. "You know, Mrs. Dwyer, Carlisle is going to make sure everything is taken care of for Bella while she's here – are you positive you don't think Phil might need some help at home?"

Renee hesitated and I immediately saw the goal of Alice's seemingly random original comment. It took me less than a second to decide to play along. Renee, while very loving, was more likely to drive me batty with her presence. God forbid if she decided to start bringing me "home cooked meals" to speed my recovery. My stomach gave a feeble lurch at the memory of crunchy pasta sauce.

"If Phil needs you back in Arizona, you should be with him. Alice will be here for me, so I'll be fine."

"But, at least one of your parents should be here for you. Charlie stayed for a while, but I don't think he can take any more time off from Forks." I wasn't sure if Renee was trying to convince herself or me.

"Mrs. Dwyer," Alice began again, intentionally using Renee's married surname, "I'm sure Charlie would be here if he could be. And you've been away from Phil for quite a while too. Are you really sure he'll be comfortable alone there without you?"

"Well, I'm sure that Phil will be able to get by," Renee's defenses were crumbling quickly under Alice's pointed assault. It was almost like she was trying to convince herself. "I can't just leave Bella here alone."

As if on cue, Renee's cell phone started playing "Take me out to the ballgame." It was Phil. Renee excused herself to the hallway in order to take the call.

"Don't worry, Bella," Alice serenely stated as she went back to fussing with my appearance. "There is a 9 pm flight out to Florida that Renee will be able to catch. Phil just tweaked his back a little more and is panicking her right now. Oh – don't forget to act surprised when she comes back in and tells you she's booked for a flight this evening!"

"Uh, Alice," I began to state slowly, "Has anyone ever told you that sometimes that thing you do where you're always right is a bit creepy?"

"That's what you're here to remind me of constantly, right?" Alice cheekily grinned back and before I could respond, Renee had returned to the room. Incredibly, the scene played out exactly as Alice had described – Renee was going to return to Florida with the stipulation that if I needed her to return, she would book a flight immediately. Before I knew it, she was already out the door and on her way back to her hotel to grab her things for her return flight.

Truth be told, I was a little shell shocked from how quickly things were changing.

"Don't worry, Bella," Alice repeated, tacitly reminding me that I wasn't alone.

"Alice," I started, an idea suddenly occurring to me, "Can you tell me if I'm going to recover from this fully?" I focused my attention on her fully and held my breath, waiting for an answer.

Alice paused and looked me in the eyes apologetically. Oh God. I was going to be paralyzed forever, wasn't I? I was _paralyzed_. Unbidden, tears began to well up in my eyes. They rolled down my face, leaving salty trails down my pale cheeks. Alice wrapped her arms around me immediately and began to make consoling noises at me as the dam of emotion I had inside of me finally burst and I began to sob.

The reality of the situation was finally sinking in and I was utterly overwhelmed. I clung to Alice and cried out my heart as she rubbed small circles along my shoulder in a futile attempt to comfort me. She didn't try to curtail my self-pity session, but patiently allowed me to vent my frustration at the prospect of being a cripple for the rest of my life.


End file.
